


My Soul is Deep in Anguish

by missshirley



Category: Adventures in Odyssey
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, and yes I brought Jack and Joanne back because they needed to come home, we all know what "Spencer" was going to do so I uh... kinda had to do this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28981431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missshirley/pseuds/missshirley
Summary: Connie returns home to an unpleasant surprise, the aftermath of which affects everyone around her.
Relationships: Connie Kendall/Jason Whittaker (eventually)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 4





	1. Save Me From All My Pursuers

**Author's Note:**

> It's a work in progress, so please share your thoughts!!! You can comment here, or go to my AIO tumblr, theaiofancaster. The title is taken from Psalm 6, and most of the chapter titles are from various Psalms as well.

“Unrelatable?” Connie scoffed, inserting her key into the front door lock. She turned it, but the door slowly opened. “Great! I left the door open too! Ah!” She sighed loudly in frustration and repeated, “Unrelatable! The nerve of that...” she trailed off, too angry to finish her sentence. 

“I find you very relatable.” A bearded man stepped out of the kitchen. 

“Wha-?!” Connie screamed and jumped. “Who are you? How did you get in my house?” 

“You really do need to start locking your house, and car as I hear.” 

“How do you know about that? What are you doing in my house?” 

“You don’t remember me?” He took a step forward and the sun from the window above the door reflected off his green eyes and light brown beard. 

Connie squinted, “No. Should I?” 

He took another step, “I guess not. We went to high school together, but I was a year below you. I’m Bradley Turnbaum.” 

“Oh! I do remember you! You got into a lot of trouble after graduation, didn’t you?” 

“Yes. And I’m sorry about that. I – I have this letter – well, it’s more of a list – about all the things I did wrong.” He paused. “You’re on it.” 

“I’m on your list? Why?” Connie took a step back. 

Bradley stepped forward again and shook his head. “I had an opportunity to approach you, to ask you about your faith and positivity, but I chickened out. I think about you a lot. If I had just had the courage to talk to you, then I’m sure I wouldn’t be where I am now.” He took another step, completely closing the gap between them. 

“Bradley, that’s not quite how it works.” Connie tried to step back from his towering figure. 

“Then how does it work, Constance?” He grabbed her elbow and moved a loose piece of hair from covering her eye. He forced her against the back of the couch and leaned against her. 

“What are you doing? Let me go!” Connie tried to struggle, but he was too strong for her. 

“Constance,” he repeated in a low tone, “I’ve always liked that name. It suits you well.” 

“Bradley,” the panic in those two syllables was unmistakable. “What are you doing? This isn’t going to fix your problems!” 

“You don’t know that. I think it will.” 

“Bradley, please.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to plead and reason with him, terror resonant in her voice. But his mind was set.


	2. I Drench My Couch With My Weeping

Connie stayed on the couch long after he left. She couldn’t make herself move so she lay prone in shock. Her phone vibrated underneath her aching body. 

“I need to get up. I need to get up.” She repeated this over and over to herself, harsher each time. Slowly, she forced herself to sit up and grabbed her phone. It was a message from Jules, “Headed home. Be there in an hour.” 

Connie’s heart leapt to her throat. Jules couldn’t see her like this. She struggled to stand, gasping in pain. As she stood, she grabbed her bottoms from where Bradley had discarded them. Connie looked down at the now-offensive couch and blinked back tears as she spied the tell-tale sign of what she had lost. She tried to regain her composure, but couldn’t, and so stumbled nearly-blind to the medicine cabinet to grab the hydrogen peroxide. She dumped nearly half the bottle on the spot and covered it with a damp rag to soak out the stain; then, she staggered upstairs, clutching the banister apprehensively. 

Taking a warm shower helped to relieve some of the pain, though Connie had a hard time scrubbing the dried blood from her legs. After she had gotten it off, she laid down beneath the beating water and let the warm steam envelope her as she cried bitter, painful tears. 

After twenty minutes of allowing the hot water to fall on her aching stomach, the water turned cold and she got out of the shower. Connie couldn’t stop the tears that continued to fall, and she moaned in pain with each movement. Everything ached. 

“Oh,” she clutched her abdomen as fresh pain stabbed viciously. She slumped against the tiled wall of the bathroom. “Why God? Why did you let this happen?” she sobbed. 

Connie shook as she stood, unspoken rage welling up inside her. She hobbled back downstairs, clothed in loose, fuzzy pajamas and an Eeyore bathrobe. “Ibuprofen, where is the ibuprofen?” she muttered as she pulled everything out of the medicine cabinet. Finally, she found it tucked in the back corner. Swallowing two pills, Connie walked into the living room and scrubbed at the stain on the couch then rinsed the rag out in the sink. 

She wandered around the house, unable to sit as she kept replaying what had happened over and over in her mind. She tried to pray, to read her Bible, but couldn’t bring herself to. So, she sat on the floor in a corner of the dining room, her auburn hair drying slowly as she lost all concept of time until the sound of keys turning the lock caused her to jump. 

“Connie?” Jules called. 

“I’m here,” Connie responded, shuffling into the foyer to greet Jules and Jillian. Jillian stopped short, 

“What happened to you? You look terrible!” 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Lock the door behind you.” 

“But Connie, we never-” 

“I said lock it!” Connie squeezed her eyes shut as tears threatened to spill out with the panic rising in her chest. She took a deep breath. 

“Connie, what’s wrong?” Jules stepped forward, hand reached out to offer her sister a comforting touch. 

Connie jerked back, moaning in pain, “Don’t touch me Jules!” 

Jules’ eyes widened and she stepped back. 

Jillian ignored this and enveloped Connie in a hug, “Aw, did your cycle get thrown off? It’s okay, all you need is a special Marshall hug. It will eradicate all PMS symptoms.” She wrapped her arms around Connie and held her tightly. 

Connie’s breathing came in short gasps. She couldn’t speak. Her vision blurred. Blood pounded furiously in her head and her body screamed out in pain. She couldn’t struggle and began to shake violently. 

“Jillian! Get off her!” Jules lurched forward and pried Jillian’s arms apart. 

“What?” her tone was annoyingly innocent. 

“She said she didn’t want to be touched!” 

“No, she told you not to touch her. She didn’t say anything to me.” 

“That is the most foolish, stupid thing I have ever heard from you; and I’ve heard a lot!” Jules knelt next to Connie who had curled herself into a ball against the wall. “What can I do Connie? How can I help you?” 

“Get her some chocolate,” Jillian shrugged. 

“Jillian! Shut up! You’re not helping! Go hang up your coat!” Jules was furious. 

“Fine, calm down kiddo.” Jillian walked toward the coat hanger. “Wait, whose coat is this?” She lifted a dark brown Carhart jacket from the rack. “I don’t recognize it.” 

Connie’s eyes widened in fear as Jillian brought it close. She could smell the cologne that lingered on it even from four feet away. 

“Jillian, stay there. Don’t bring it any closer.” Jules stood, watching Connie’s terrified expression. She walked past Jillian and grabbed the coat from her to examine it in the doorway, thinking out loud. “This is a man’s jacket, but I don’t remember any of the guys having such a worn out Carhart jacket. Something about this is – off. It shouldn’t be here. But it is. Someone else was here. Someone who shouldn’t have been.” Her eyes widened as she looked back at her older sister sitting, glassy eyed and silent in shock on the floor. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” 

“What is it?” Jillian asked. 

Jules ignored her and turned on the lights in the living room. She saw the signs of a struggle, signs that had been half-heartedly cleaned up. She looked at the couch and lowered her head, tears rushing to her eyes as she spied a pale pink stain on the ivory fabric. She rushed back to the foyer and locked the front door again. 

Jillian walked into the living room, “See? I was right. She just started her period early!” she called. Jules sighed in frustration and ran into the living room, dragging Jillian away from the doorway. “That is not what happened! Do you see how terrified Connie is? Are you seeing what I see? Someone broke in here!” 

“And?” 

“Oh, you are so dense sometimes! You know what, it doesn’t matter. Just, call Mr. Whittaker. No, wait, he’s out of town. Call Jason.” 

“Why?” 

“Stop asking questions and do it Jillian!” 

“Okay, okay! I’m doing it! But I don’t have Jason’s personal number, I’ll have to call the shop.” 

“Okay then call the shop! Just do it!” 

Jillian whipped out her phone. “Hello? Um, this is Jillian Marshall, double-l Jillian, double-l Marshall calling Triple J’s Antiques to speak to Jason Whittaker urgently. He’s not there? Well can you ask him to come over to Connie’s. Something happened and she needs help.” 

“Who is that?” Jules hissed. 

Jillian covered her phone mic, “Some lady named Joanne Allen. She’s asking if there’s anything she can do.” 

Connie spoke up hoarsely from the foyer, “Joanne’s back? Ask her to come.” 

Jillian blinked like an owl and didn’t move so Jules ripped the phone from her hands. “Hello, Mrs. Allen? Hi, you don’t know me, but I’m Connie’s sister Jules. Something has happened and Connie would appreciate it if you could come over as soon as possible. Yes, thank you.” Jules hung up and handed Jillian the phone. “Mrs. Allen is on her way.” 

Connie was silent again. 

“Connie?” Jules walked towards her, slowly. “What happened? Please, tell me Connie. Tell me how to help you.” 

Connie’s voice cracked, “You know what happened Jules. I don’t want to talk about it now.” 

“Okay. Do you want me to leave?” 

Connie shook her head. 

“Then I’ll just sit over here.” 

“What should I do?” Jillian’s enthusiastic, clueless voice pierced their ears. 

“Jillian, why don’t you go watch that show you were talking about in your room. The one you really wanted to watch.” 

Her eyes lit up, “That is a great idea Jules! Thank you!” She bounded up the stairs and out of the way. 

Jules and Connie sat silently on the cold wooden floor for no more than fifteen minutes, but it felt like an eternity. The sisters didn’t look at each other, not that they could have seen as their eyes were full of tears. A gentle knock on the door startled Jules and made Connie jump. 

Jules opened to door to see a petite, middle-aged woman with black curly hair and dark blue eyes on the porch. “Yes?” Jules asked. 

“You must be Jules,” the woman’s voice was sweet and clear, “I’m Joanne Allen, I believe we spoke on the phone when you asked me to come over for Connie. What’s wrong?” 

Jules wiped her eyes and stepped outside, closing the door behind her, “Oh, Mrs. Allen, thank you for coming. I don’t know what to do.” 

Joanne rubbed Jules’ back comfortingly, “What happened?” 

Jules took a deep breath, trying to clear her head so she wouldn’t ramble, “When Jillian and I got home, Connie was acting very strange and she didn’t want to be touched, which isn’t normal for Connie. Jillian ignored her and hugged her, which caused a panic attack, I think. Then Jillian found a man’s coat on the hanger, one we had never seen before. So, I tried to put the pieces together, and when I looked in the living room, I saw signs of a struggle. Mrs. Allen, I – I think someone r-raped Connie.” 

“What?” Joanne gasped. She pushed past Jules, opened the door and walked into the foyer, but stopped short at the sight of Connie who struggled to get to her feet. “Oh Connie,” her tone was sorrowful, she rushed forward, but stopped short as Connie stood. 

Joanne turned back to Jules, “Jules, could you give your sister and I a minute?” 

“Oh, um, sure. I have some homework to work on anyway.” She walked reluctantly up the stairs, glancing behind her. When she reached her room, she closed the door and sat on the edge of her bed, trying to process what was going on. It was too much to handle and she flopped back onto her pillows and cried.


	3. My Mother's Arms Keep Me Safe

Downstairs, Joanne headed to the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. Connie followed her and eased onto a chair at the kitchen table. She groaned in pain again and realized she hadn’t plugged in the heating pad. Luckily, Joanne noticed and did so for her, then walked back to the stove. 

Joanne leaned lightly against the wall, watching Connie, who had laid her head down on the table. She glanced at the tea kettle which still hadn’t heated up. 

“Oh Lord,” she whispered inaudibly, “I don’t know what to pray right now. But I beg of you, be with Connie right now. She is going to need you more than ever Father. Show her that You have not and will not change due to these events. And help me to comfort her.” 

She stood silent again, and closed her eyes, imagining the pain, not only physical, but mental and emotional, that Connie was going through. Connie, the teenager who had been afraid that she would take Whit away again. The young woman she had had the privilege of watching grow in her walk with Christ. The friend she had road tripped to Washington D.C. with. The girl who felt very much like a daughter to her. 

Joanne jumped as the tea kettle finally began to whistle. She moved it from the hot eye, but nearly dropped it as Connie cried out. Joanne rushed to her side. 

“What is it Connie? What’s wrong?” 

Connie looked around wildly, like an animal ensnared. Joanne decided to risk touching her and grabbed Connie’s hands. 

“Look at me, Connie. Look at me.” 

Connie’s breathing slowed as she focused on Joanne who continued to talk soothingly, “You are safe. Nothing else is going to happen. You are safe.” 

“Joanne? You’re really back.” Connie tried to smile, but couldn’t. Her lip quivered, “It was horrible. It was so so horrible.” 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” 

Connie nodded. 

“Okay.” 

“I - I got home, but the door was open. I didn’t really think much of it, but then he came out of the kitchen and – and he started saying all this really weird stuff about how he’s done bad things, but he wanted to make it right, and he wanted to start with me.” 

“Do you know who he was?” 

“I used to go to high school with him, but he was arrested several years ago. I – I think he’s been stalking me. He came closer and closer to me until he had me pressed against the couch. Joanne, he was too strong, and I couldn't get him off me. I tried and tried, but I couldn’t get him off.” Connie’s breathing quickened and her face contorted as she tried to fight back the inevitable flood of tears. “He wouldn’t get off me. He just kept saying how this would fix everything and that I needed to stop fighting.” She perched on the edge of her seat, rocking back and forth. “It hurt, Joanne. It hurt so much. It still hurts.” She slid off the edge of her chair onto the floor, head bowed as her body was racked with sobs. 

Joanne wrapped her arms around Connie and held her close, crying with her. “I am so sorry you had to go through that dearest. I am so so sorry.” 

She glanced at the chair Connie had been sitting and gasped, “Connie, you’re bleeding.” 

“What? No, it stopped.” 

“No, no it hasn’t stopped. I know you’re pain right now, but I need you to stand. I’ll help you.” She hooked her arm around Connie’s chest and assisted her as gently as possible to her feet. Joanne moved Connie’s robe out of the way and examined her pajama pants which were covered in blood. 

“Connie, I need you to lie down and try not to move.” Joanne ran to the foyer and called up the stairs, “Jules! I need your help!” 

Jules practically tore the door of its hinges opening it. She rushed down the carpeted stairs. “What’s wrong Mrs. Allen?” 

“I need you to call 911 and grab Connie a clean pair of pajamas. Quickly.” 

“What is it? What happened?” Jules tremored slightly. 

“We need to get Connie to the hospital. I don’t think it’s too serious, but she needs to go. Please hurry.” 

“Yes ma’am.”


	4. There May Be Pain In The Night

They sat apprehensively in the chairs at Odyssey General Hospital, unsure of what to do. 

“Mrs. Allen?” Jules didn’t look over at her. 

“Yes?” 

“Can we call Mr. Whittaker?” 

“That’s a good idea, Jules. Do you want me to?” 

“Sure. I don’t care.” 

“Alright.” Joanne stood and walked into the hallway to make the call. 

Jules sat alone with her thoughts. “If I had been there, I could have done something. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just stayed home.” She leaned forward and placed her head in her hands. 

“Jules?” She looked up at Dr. Graham who was standing in front of her. 

“Yes, Doctor?” 

“Is Joanne around?” 

“Yes, she went to make a call. She should be back in just a minute. How’s Connie?” 

Dr. Graham opened her mouth to answer when Joanne walked up. “Lily, how is Connie?” 

“As I was just about to tell Jules, Connie is doing alright. She is still in shock, but I’ve put her on a sedative and she is resting now. She has some bruising, especially around the neck and thighs, and a few internal perforations. I’ve also given her a prescription to help with the bleeding. She can leave tomorrow, though I wouldn’t recommend bringing her home. Is there someone she can stay with?” 

“Well, I would say Mr. Whittaker, but Morrie and Suzu are staying with him now. The Meltsners are on a winter holiday in Canada, and all the rooms at Penny and Wooton’s are full of Penny’s paintings. I guess we’ll have to get a hotel room.” 

“It will have to be for more than one night,” Dr. Graham warned. “The trauma she has experienced isn't light and it will take her a while to readjust. Especially to the house. She will see that room differently now. Each time she walks past or steps foot in it she will experience something of an anxiety attack. It’s going to be very hard. She’ll need all the help she can get, even if she pushes you away, it won’t change the fact that she needs support.” 

“Okay.” 

Joanne thought pensively for a moment before saying, “You both can come and stay with Jack and I. At least until Connie feels comfortable enough to return home. We have two guest rooms.” 

“What about Jillian?” Jules asked. 

“Who?” Joanne’s brow furrowed. 

“Our boarder.” 

“Oh, well, do you want her to come as well?” 

Jules shook her head, “Not really. She isn’t very helpful.” 

Joanne hesitated, wanting to say something about how that wasn’t very nice of Jules, but decided against it. “Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” 

“I guess. She has a friend she can stay with.” 

“You should probably tell her to head on over to her friend’s house,” Joanne looked at her watch, “It’s already almost six-thirty.” 

“Alright.” Jules pulled out her phone and quickly messaged Jillian. “That’s done,” she said, shoving her phone into her back pocket. 

“Jules, if you’d like to, you can stay the night here in the hospital since you’re sixteen,” Dr. Graham offered. 

“Thank you, Dr. Graham. I think I will.” 

“Alright then, I’ll have an orderly bring you a pillow and blanket.” Dr. Graham walked back down the hall. 

Jules turned to Joanne, “Were you able to get a hold of Mr. Whittaker?” 

“Yes, he’s on his way here from a business meeting in Connelsville. He should be here within the hour. I’m going to call my husband at the shop and let him and Jason know how Connie is doing.” 

“Okay. I’ll just, sit here.” 

“I’ll only be a minute.” Joanne walked back into the hallway to pace as she called Jack. 

“How is Connie doing?” He asked immediately upon answering. 

“She’s resting now, they’re going to keep her overnight. I told Jules that they could stay with us until Connie feels safe enough to return home. I hope that’s okay,” she bit her lip, waiting for his response. 

“Yes, yes, that’s fine. I was going to suggest the same thing.” 

“Good. How is Jason?” 

“Still furious. Which is entirely understandable because I am too. I’m trying to keep him here so he doesn’t go out and do something rash. We’re about to close up the store since it’s almost seven, so I need to go. Are you going to stay there tonight? Or will I see you at home?” 

“I’m going to head home when Whit gets here. I want to make sure the house and guestrooms are clean for tomorrow.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you then dear.” 

“Yes, ‘bye honey.” Joanne hung up the phone and walked back to Jules, who was sitting expressionless, a pillow and blanket held tightly in her lap. 

“Jules?” Joanne sat next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Jules started and looked at Joanne. 

“What?” 

“I just wanted to let you know that unless you need me to stay, I’m going to go home when Whit gets here.” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” 

“Alright then.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, Jules consumed in blaming herself and Joanne unsure what was going on in the teenager’s mind. She decided to ask, “Are you alright, Jules?” 

“I’m fine, I’m just thinking.” 

“If you need to talk about it-” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Okay.” Joanne remained silent and Jules fell asleep before Whit arrived. 

Joanne hugged him tightly and whispered, “Connie’s resting now, they’ll release her tomorrow and she can stay with Jack and I.” 

“That sounds like a good idea. How’s Jules doing?” 

“She’s struggling, but I don’t think she’s quite ready to talk about it yet.” 

“That’s understandable. Okay, well I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“Yes, I’ll come by around one to pick Connie up. Goodnight Whit.” 

“Goodnight Joanne.” Whit settled into the warm chair beside Jules and watched Joanne’s petite figure walk away. He leaned back with a heavy sigh and as he did so Jules, still asleep, shifted her head onto his shoulder. They remained like that for the rest of the night.


	5. His Mischief Returns Upon His Own Head

Jason clenched and unclenched his fist, his jaw tense with rage as he waited for Jack to finish counting the money in the register. 

“Did you do that all last night too? You were doing that when we closed the shop last night. I know you’re angry Jason, I am too, but doing that won’t change anything.” 

“No, it won’t Jack, but it makes me feel better.” 

“Okay, okay, just don’t scare away the customers.” 

“I’ll try.” 

“Oh Jason,” Jack sighed and finished opening the antique shop. 

“Hey, you have a gun at the house, right Jack?” 

“Yes Jason. Connie will be perfectly safe staying with Joanne and I. And before you ask, yes, Joanne knows how to use it.” 

Jason nodded and walked behind the counter and pulled out a police radio. He turned it on and heard nothing but static until he tuned it to the Odyssey Police Department’s channel. 

“Are you going to have that playing in the background all day?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” 

Time passed slowly at Triple J’s Antiques, only two or three customers came in, so Jason turned the police radio up and sat anxiously in front of it. 

Around noon, a call came in from and officer at Odyssey General Hospital, “Miss Kendall was able to give us a description of her attacker and a name: Bradley Turnbaum. About 25 years old, five-ten, light reddish-brown hair and beard, probably weighs one-eighty-five. Last seen wearing green t-shirt with khaki cargo pants. Missing a worn out Carhart jacket. He is wanted for-” Jack reached over and turned the radio off. 

“Why did you do that?” Jason snapped. 

“Because,” Jack stared him down, “we know what he is wanted for. You’ve heard his description; you don’t need to listen anymore.” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“I know I am. I’m going into the back to finish up some cataloging and I’m bringing this with me,” he picked up the radio and started to walk away. “If you’re bored, grab a book and read!” Jack called over his shoulder. 

“You know, you’re acting awfully calm about all this! Do even really care?” Jason shouted back at him. Everything was quiet for a moment, but Jason’s trained ears heard Jack’s quiet footsteps come up behind him. 

“Listen to me very carefully, Jason Whittaker. I care more than you know. I love that girl the same way I love my daughter. I am just as furious as you are, but I am keeping my rage in check because the Bible tells us to “be angry and sin not.” Remember that, Jason. And do not ever question my emotions again.” Jack returned to the back room. 

Jason sat in silence for a few minutes, contemplating Jack’s words. Eventually, he stood and walked across the shop to the bookshelves and began searching for a book. While he was preoccupied, the bell above the door rang. “I’ll be right there!” he called. 

“No problem!” A young man’s voice replied. 

Jason grabbed a tattered copy of Crime and Punishment from the shelf and brought it with him back to the counter. He glanced around, looking for the voice’s owner. He spotted the young man behind a large eighteenth century Japanese vase. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 

The man turned and Jason clenched his fists. “You look familiar,” he said, gritting his teeth. “What’s your name?” 

“Bradley Turnbaum. I used to live around here.” He started to smile, but it left immediately as Jason’s fist connected with his jaw. 

That first hit took him completely by surprise, so Bradley suffered a few more blows before fighting back, arms flailing wildly as he tried to hit Jason who expertly dodged the clumsily formed fists. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Jack’s normally soothing, calm voice thundered at the two men. 

“Your employee here started beating up on me for no reason!” Bradley wiped blood from his nose. 

“Jason?” Jack turned to his best friend’s son in disappointment. 

“This is the guy, Jack.” 

“I see.” Jack took a deep breath and stepped forward contemplatively. “You’re sure?” 

Jason nodded. Bradley looked back and forth at them in confusion. “What guy?” 

“You know who, you bastard.” 

Bradley didn’t have any time to see it coming and dropped to the floor like a weight as Jack cracked his wrist back into place. “Jason, call the cops. Tell them we have Connie’s attacker here.” 

“Should we tie him up?” 

“No. I don’t think he’ll be getting up anytime too soon.” Jack retreated to the backroom once more. Jason stared after him in awe and shock, no longer doubting Jack’s ability to keep Connie safe.


	6. I Waste Away Because Of Grief

Joanne and Jules worked together to get Connie settled in the guest bedroom. They propped her up with pillows and tucked a heated blanket around her still aching body. Her prescription meds were placed on the nightstand with a glass and a pitcher of cool water. They kept her silent company until she fell asleep, then the relocated to the Allen’s spacious kitchen. 

“Are you still doing okay, Jules?” Joanne asked in a motherly tone as she poured two glasses of sweet tea and brought them to the table. 

Jules took a sip and nodded, “I’m fine Mrs. Allen. I wasn’t the one raped. Connie was.” 

“I know that, dear, but this is a traumatizing situation for all of us. Connie most of all, but it’s bound to affect you in some way as well.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jules took another sip of tea and turned her head, indicating that the topic was no longer open for discussion. 

Joanne sighed in concession. Just then, her phone started ringing. “Hello?” she answered. “He did? Oh, my goodness. And you’re sure you’re both alright? Okay. What? He did? Really? Wow. Yeah, yeah, I’ll let them know. That’s great news, thank you Jason.” 

“What?” Jules asked after Joanne hung up. 

“The guy went into the antique sore. Jack and Jason knocked him out and the police have just picked him up.” 

“So, he’s in jail now?” 

“He’s at least headed over there.” 

“Oh good,” Jules said, relieved. She took a deep breath and felt like part of the weight on her shoulders had been lifted. However, there was still the matter of who was to blame... 

Jules shook herself, determined not to think about that just then. “That’s great. Um, if it’s alright with you, I’m going to go for a walk. To clear my head.” 

“Of course.” 

“Thanks. The tea was good, by the way.” 

“Oh, thank you. Do you need a jacket?” 

“No, I have mine.” 

“Alright, have a nice walk then.” 

Jules nodded and left Joanne sitting alone in the kitchen. Joanne bowed her head in silent prayer, “Lord, I don’t know what to pray right now. I just ask that you be with Connie as she begins a very long healing process, and with Jules who is going to need some healing of her own. And please show Jack and I how to serve these poor girls. Amen.”


	7. If There Is Wrong In My Hands

Time passed slowly for Connie, but she noticed with each new day that the pain was beginning to alleviate. She had been staying with the Allen’s for nearly three weeks before daring to leave the house. Early Sunday morning Connie showered and decided it was time she went on a walk. It was time for her to clear her thoughts and wrestle with the lingering trauma of her ordeal. 

She took a deep breath and opened the door. Jack and Joanne had already left for church and Jules had returned to the house with Jillian after Bradley had been sent to the state prison to await trial, so there was no one she needed to alert to her departure. 

The air was frigidly cold, and Connie clutched her jacket tightly around her. She kept her head down as she passed men walking the streets. She knew they probably meant her no harm, but being honest with herself, men scared her at this current stage in her life. 

Connie tried to stop thinking about the attack and pray instead, but she couldn’t form anything beyond, “Why did you let this happen?” And each time she asked it, there was no reply. She walked past Odyssey Baptist Church near the end of town and stared up at the mountain before her. 

“Can you even hear me?” She screamed at the gathering snow clouds. “Do you even care?” She would have cried, but at this point she felt like she had cried every tear left in her body. “What lesson am I supposed to get out of this? What did I do wrong that this was necessary?” Connie turned around and walked back to the Allen’s in utter defeat. 

She hadn’t realized just how long she’d been gone until she approached the porch and saw Jack and Joanne sitting on the steps looking very worried. They stood and their expressions turned to relief as she walked up. 

“Connie, you had us worried! Are you alright?” 

“I'm fine Joanne. I just needed to take a walk. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.” 

“Don’t apologize. You’re fine, that’s all that matters,” Jack said. He didn’t try to approach Connie, knowing the nearness of any man was still too stressful for her. 

Joanne nodded in agreement. “While you were gone, Doctor Graham called. She asked for you to call her back as soon as possible. It sounded important.” 

“Okay, thank you Joanne. And thank you Jack.” Connie took an inconspicuous deep breath and walked past Jack, who took a step back for her benefit. She smiled sadly at him and went inside, followed by Joanne. 

Jack sighed and left, intending to go for a walk of his own.


	8. Save Me For The Sake Of Your Steadfast Love

Inside, Joanne handed Connie the message Doctor Graham had left, and Connie called the doctor back. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi Doctor Graham, it’s Connie Kendall. Joanne said you wanted to speak with me?” 

“Oh yes. How are you doing Connie?” 

“I’ve been better. The pain isn’t as bad anymore, but I have a lot to work through mentally and spiritually.” 

“That’s to be expected. I’m terribly sorry to do this, but I have to ask you to take a pregnancy test. It’s our hospital's standard procedure.” 

“Oh. Um...” Connie was unsure how to respond. 

“I know it’s very awkward and probably not something you want to do, but it is necessary.” 

Connie took a deep breath to stop herself from shaking. The possibility that she could be pregnant wasn’t something she had even considered. 

“Okay, thank you Doctor Graham.” 

“I’m sorry Connie.” 

Connie didn’t respond, instead she sighed and hung up the phone. She covered her face with her hands and drug them down, stretching her cheeks in frustration. “It’s just one thing after another with this,” she grumbled. 

Joanne walked into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame. 

“They want me to take a pregnancy test now.” 

Joanne nodded, “I expected as much, so I took the liberty of getting a test from the drug store while you were taking your walk.” 

“I know I should thank you, but I’m despising the idea of doing this.” Connie grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled with water adding, “Not that I think it’ll be positive.” She chugged the glass of water and Joanne solemnly handed her the test. Connie took a breath and walked to bathroom at the end of the hall. 

“I almost wish she would scream or throw something instead of this silent grief. She hasn’t cried since that night,” Joanne voiced thoughtfully. She sat at her kitchen table and waited. After a few minutes she heard what sounded like a cat being strangled. It took her a minute to realize exactly what the sound was. An angry scream and the sound of breaking glass jolted her to her feet and she rushed down the hall and opened the bathroom door. Connie was curled against the wall, fists clenched around something and sobbing hysterically. Glass from the soap dish was scattered over the floor. 

Connie was oblivious to Joanne’s entrance until she felt the slender arms and scent of orange blossom envelop her. She turned and sobbed into Joanne’s maroon sweater. 

“It’ll be okay. Just get it out.” 

Connie continued to choke over her sobs as she opened her tightly clenched fist and show Joanne the test. It was positive. 

“Oh Connie. You will get through this. You have so many people who love you and who are willing to support you.” 

Connie managed to lift her head from Joanne’s sweater and say through racking sobs, “What did I do wrong? What sin did I commit that warrants this as a punishment?” 

“Oh God,” Joanne breathed in a pleading prayer as tears rushed to her eyes. 

Connie stammered through sobs and hiccups, “I’ve been trying to accept it and not lose my temper because I thought ‘Surely God has a plan in this.’ But now I’m not so sure Joanne.” 

Joanne pulled her close and rocked her back and forth, “Now you listen to me,” she said, her voice hoarse as she tied to push back the lump resting in her throat, “this is not a punishment. God is not punishing you. He is using Bradley’s actions to work in you.” 

“But to give me that man’s child...” Connie trailed off. 

“Do we not, as Christians believe that all life is sacred? Do we not stand praying outside abortion clinics? Do we not provide resources to women pregnant out of wedlock or through rape? Do we not firmly believe that God has a plan bigger and better than we could ever imagine? Now is the chance to prove what we believe.” 

Connie didn’t respond. Instead, she asked, “Can you bring me to the hospital? I think Doctor Graham needs to know this immediately.” She was still crying, but no longer sobbing violently. 

“Of course. Do you want me to call anyone?” 

“Not - not yet.” 

“Okay.” Joanne quickly texted her husband. Then they grabbed their jackets and headed outside to Joanne’s car.


	9. You Wove Me Together

The hospital wasn’t too busy, but Connie was trapped in an exam room for twenty minutes before a nurse came to see her. She had asked Joanne to stay with her, but Joanne had just run to the bathroom before the nurse came in. It was a blonde woman who looked about thirty years old. She glanced at her chart before addressing Connie. 

“Hello Miss Kendall, I’m Nurse Williams.” She continued in a sugared tone, “I see you’re in here to follow up after a rape and that you’ve just discovered you are pregnant with your attacker’s child?” 

Connie’s eyes widened to hear her situation referred to so coldly. She nodded. 

“Very good, very good.” The nurse smiled with a false sweetness mixed with obvious false empathy. “I would just like to let you know that I can give you some resources to help with your current situation.” 

“Oh, that would be nice, thank you.” Connie allowed the nurse to place a pamphlet in her hand. She looked at it, then at Nurse Williams, “This is a pamphlet for an abortion clinic.” 

“Yes. They can get you in and out very quickly and you can put this terrible ordeal behind you.” 

It took a minute for Connie to slide off the table and shove the pamphlet into Nurse Williams’ hands. She opened the door and nearly pushed the woman out into the hospital corridor. “I’m not interested.” 

“But Miss Kendall-” Connie closed the door in the nurse’s face. 

“I don’t care. I won’t do it,” she murmured and looked down as she placed her hands protectively over her stomach. “You are mine. You are mine before you will ever be his. And you are God’s before you are mine.” She didn’t understand the peace that had suddenly filled her, and she didn’t try because in this minute it was all she needed. 

Joanne opened the door and walked back into the room. “Has anyone come in yet?” 

Connie lied and shook her head. Joanne didn’t need to know about the nurse’s visit. Somebody pushed something under the door. Joanne stooped to pick it up and frowned. It was the abortion clinic pamphlet. Joanne ripped it in half. 

“How dare they allow this-this garbage in a hospital. It is a direct violation of the Hippocratic Oath!” Joanne would have continued to rant but at that moment Doctor Graham popped her head in. 

“Connie,” she sighed, walking forward, arms outstretched. “I read the report.” She gave Conne a quick, reassuring hug. “I assume you will be keeping your baby?” 

Connie nodded and placed her hands over her stomach. “Yes. I don’t know how I’ll manage it, but I’m not going to murder my child.” 

Doctor Graham nodded, “I thought as much. I called into the pharmacy for prenatal vitamins. You’ll have to see an OB or a midwife from now, but I want you to check in with me periodically so I can assess your overall health. Pregnancy via rape can cause some extra health issues and I want to stay on top of that.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“I know you’ve been staying with Jack and Joanne these past few weeks, but do you have anyone else around from whom you will accept support?” 

Connie nodded slowly, “Yes, I’ve just had a hard time opening up to them about what I’ve been through.” 

“I think you need to sit down and have a deep conversation with some of these people then. I promise you it will help.” 

“Okay, thank you Doctor. Is there anything else you need from me? Or am I free to go?” 

“I already have your home test and a urine sample. We’ll run an official test through our labs to make sure everything is okay, but this brand doesn't give false positives. You can go.” 

“Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”


	10. If I Have Done This

Connie and Joanne left the hospital to return to the Allen’s home. Once there, Connie called Whit, Jason, Jack, Jules and Jillian and asked them to come to the Allen’s. 

Everyone arrived promptly and sat on the leather sofas in the living room. Jillian was the first to speak, “So what is it?” 

Connie took a deep breath, she still shook and tried to block out the memory of the attack. Being so close to men made her uncomfortable and she resigned herself to the fact that no matter how much she loved these men, it might be quite a while before she could get comfortably close to any of them. She moved her chair back from the sofa until she felt safe enough. 

Whit looked at her with an ache in his eyes. This was his little girl and to see her too afraid to be near him hurt beyond what he could have imagined. 

“I- I have something important to tell you.” Connie scanned each of their faces. Joanne moved to stand behind her and placed her hand comfortingly on Connie’s shoulder. “You know what happened, and I believe you can at least imagine the agony I’m going through. I’m so, so sorry for causing you any grief,” her eyes landed on each person, except Jillian, meaningfully. “I wish I could tell you that I’m cured of any panic attacks or anxiety I will suffer, but you know I’m not and that it doesn’t work like that. Instead, I have to tell you that it’s not going to get easier for quite some time. I don’t want to lean too heavily on any of you, but you need to be aware of what is happening.” Connie took a deep breath, steadying herself, trying to work up the courage to say it. 

“What is it?” Jillian interjected as Connie began to open her mouth. Everyone turned and if looks could have killed... 

Connie tried again, “I’m- I just- I'm pregnant,” she stammered. 

Everyone sat still and silent in shock, unsure of how to respond. Connie scanned everyone’s faces, trying to gauge their reactions. She looked first at Whit, who sat on one end of the Allen’s couch. The anguish in his eyes forced a lump into her throat, and her eyes jumped to Jules, who sat wedged between Whit and Jason. How Connie envied her. Jules’s expression was hard to read. Her face seemed to be a shade of red, and her eyes looked glassy. Connie shifted her gaze to Jason, who was sitting very still. His hands were clenched into tight fists and his eyes alight with a vengeful fire. Connie quickly averted her eyes, his expression scared her. Jack was next, his expression soft compared to Jason’s and Connie felt terrible for being afraid of his nearness. 

Beside Jack, Jillian coughed loudly, causing Connie to jump and become rigid. Joanne gently massaged Connie’s shoulders, “It’s okay,” she whispered into Connie’s ear. 

Jillian grinned. “If you need any help at all Connie, I’ll be here for you. I’m so glad you decided to keep the baby, I know that couldn’t have been an easy decision, all things considered, but you did the right thing. I do have just one question to ask you though: Are you sure there’s nothing at all, that you didn’t do a single thing, to lead this guy, Bradley, on?” 

Jason shot up, hands flexing furiously but Jules pulled him down and took his position, glaring at Jillian. 

“What?” Jillian asked, her tone dripping with faux innocence. 

“Don’t give me that,” Jules stepped forward menacingly. Jillian’s smile wavered slightly as she leaned back. “You have been so inconsiderate this whole time. You haven’t said one single helpful thing and you keep making all these ridiculous, cutting remarks.” Jules scoffed in realization, “It’s almost as if you’re trying to imply that this is somehow Connie’s fault. How do you explain that Jillian? Why is it so hard for you to let something nice come out of your mouth?” 

Jillian’s hand flew dramatically to her chest as she stood, towering over Jules’s five-foot-five. “I think I have been very kind and gracious through all of this.” She raised her eyebrows and looked down into Jules’s eyes in what could have been considered a menacing manner. But Jules didn’t back down. Instead, she puffed up her chest and raised herself to her tiptoes. 

“And just what do you mean by that?” She growled up at Jillian. 

Jillian batted her long eyelashes, “I’m just saying that maybe something happened when they were in high school and maybe Connie accidentally led him on. Or maybe, well, doesn’t the Bible say something about how if something really bad happens to someone they probably deserve it?” Jillian turned to look at Connie, “Are there any sins you’ve committed that would warrant this as punishment?” 

Connie didn’t know how to respond; she was in shock that such a thing had been implied by someone she considered a friend. Jules knew what to do though. Without a moment’s hesitation her hand lashed out and she slapped Jillian. Hard. 

“Get. Out.” Jules’s tone was harsh, and she pointed at the door. “Now.” 

Jillian stared dumbly, then moved to obey. She stopped in the foyer as Jules said one more thing, “No one talks to my sister like that. Get your things out of her house and find somewhere else to live. Leave your rent check on the counter. I don’t want to see you there when I come home.” 

Jillian huffed and left the Allen’s. 

Jules walked over to her sister and knelt before her. She wrapped her arms around Connie’s legs and rested her cheek on Connie’s knee. “I love you Connie and I’m in this with you for the long haul. You’ll be a great mother; I mean, you’ve been practically raising me these past few years.” She lifted her head to look Connie in the eye, tears streaming down her cheeks, “And I’m sorry Connie. Oh God I am so sorry.”


End file.
